Saying goodbye to family

• Published October 03, 2008

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“I found a home in newsrooms. Newsrooms accepted me in a way other workplaces had not. I could be skeptical. I could be sarcastic. I could ask impertinent questions. I found people who shared my interest in current events, language and the question of why people do the things they do. I also could wear tennis shoes every day.” ~ Kirk Ericson, soon-to-be former Olympian newspaperman with no newspaper.

No truer words have ever been spoken regarding the newsroom atmosphere, and Kirk’s blog today sums up the feelings of many, even those he leaves behind. Kirk is one the casualties of our current buyout situation here at The Olympian. He is a 20-year veteran of this newsroom, and will be sorely missed, even by those of us who often wondered what hemisphere his brain was operating in on any given day. There is one thing that can never be said to describe Kirk, and that’s that he has a simple mind.

We are losing two veteran newsroom employees in this buyout, and two other co-workers who have made significant contributions here as well. I can’t begin to describe how this feels to me, but I’m sure there are others who are feeling as though we are having limbs removed from a total body, and limbs just don’t grow back. There will be an empty space where the only hope is that healing comes swiftly, and the rest of the body closes ranks to compensate and carry on with the task of adapting to a changing industry.

I didn’t work closely with all of the departing employees, but I worked just enough with each one of them to know that if pieces of one’s character can be judged by commitment, then we lose far more than just newspapermen and women. We lose vastly diverse voices that have given this newsroom laughter, as well as the eyebrow raising curiosity that I’m sure was completely intended when Kirk wrote his blogs, or just conversed with those around him. For me, the loss of Kirk, Karen Crist, Mary Tracy, and Keri Brenner has left me heart sad. The only satisfaction in their leaving is knowing that their layoffs came voluntarily, and with that, I sincerely wish them great success in the future. In some form or another, they have played a part, and written pieces, in the chapters of my book.

I won’t say goodbye to these co-workers, because with any luck at all, we will cross paths again. Perhaps I’ll go shopping for a hug and a whisper. What I will do is raise my glass and tip my hat to four outstanding people who have been a pleasure to work with, and say, “You will be missed.”